The God and the King
by Unknown-de-Mordor
Summary: When Luchist met Hao, his world ended. *This fan fiction is originally written in 2005 as a character study, so my apology for how dated this is.*


**A/N:** This fanfic is based on scattered information given by Hiroyuki Takei on what had happen to Luchist and Marco before the shaman fight.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, it's Hiroyuki's.

Warning: Spoiler Alert, not a major one though. I have to use the information from vol.24-25-26, but there is nothing about the Manga storyline.

[Originally, written July 2005. My apology for my terrible English at the time.]

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The fire burst high up in the sky. The sound of the burning could be heard through the air like a scream of demon, so loud one could hardly hear the screams and cries of children combining like a choir of death. As the roof collapsed, the cry died down, leaving only the sound of the fire burning on.

Two figures stood before the flame: one dressed in black standing unmoved by the heat while the other, the younger blond, was on his knees; his eyes widened in shock and anger

The elder touched the shaking shoulder and whispered, " We can do nothing for them now, Marco. "

" I know. " He answered, clenching his teeth. " It's just... How could he..."

" No man can ever harm children in such a way. " The priest said calmly, but hatred in his voice could not be mistaken. How could he forgive this demon, the one who stole all his dearest and nearest? All he ever loved were now lost within the flame.

Marco suddenly stood up and strode off to the bonfire. His cry was like that of a mad man shouting in despair, " CURSE YOU! Curse you for what you did! Lord will give justice to the children and you to HELL! "

The elder stood silent, listening to the trembling prayer from his friend as the fire burnt their only home to ashes. This church was the home of many children and he was a father to them as much as God. Now they were gone, suffered in the fire of hell right before his eyes.

The luster of his eyes quivered as they fixed upon the lone figure standing on the top of the gable. He could feel the gaze, the smirk, the breath. It can be no creature but the incarnate of demon.

Yet he still remembered those eyes, lonely gaze fixed beyond the horizon as those thin lips whispered the words of wonder. He couldn't bring himself to believe that were all faked. How could the mirror of the heart lie to the one who was keen of reading it?

But he could not forgive. He who was taught to love cannot bare the burning hatred he felt toward the boy he used to admire.

...May the Lord damn him to suffer in eternal hell...

A smile spread on the young boy's face as the figure vanished into the shadow of the night.

It all started when this boy came.

He was teaching the children in that one fine day when one of his boys ran to him with terrified look in his eyes. He was watering the garden when he found a wounded boy lying unconsciously beneath the bushes. Blood, burns and dirt were all over the limp body. His nails and knees covered with clotted blood mixed with sand. They had no idea where he came from or what had happened to him. All they could do was to take him inside and take care of the wounds.

He didn't suspect anything, not a bit.

He called the doctor in the village as soon as he could manage. Then he called the police only to learn about an accident up on the hills that early morning. A foreign couple drove their car on the highway and, without any reason, crashed down a steep cliff. They were burnt into crisp in their seat while their only son was lost. For him, there was no doubt. This strange coincidence explained only one thing; the boy who was lying in his bed had to be the lost child of these people.

The next thing that overwhelmed him was pity, pity for the child who had just lost his parents, pity that he was alive without knowing what will befall him from now on. The police had nothing to identify him yet. His passport was burnt, the camera, films and pictures were damaged beyond repair. It would take time before they could contact the embassy and see if he had any relative. Before that, the fate of this child would remain unknown.

" We would appreciate if you could look after him for the time being, Father Luchist. "

" I will, even if you don't ask. ", He said. " But I will appreciate it as much if you could process this faster, my good man. "

They said they would and he wanted to believe that, but something was telling him that it would not be so.

Marco came back that night with the news of the accident. The couple, fairly rich, was from France. They were on a vacation and just rented the car 3 days ago in excellent condition. The police had no idea what drove them down that cliff. There was no sign that they used brake, just like they suddenly wanted to commit suicide.

" The police are trying to examine the car. But from its aspect, it won't help much. " The blond signed, flapping the newspaper in his hand. " They also suspect homicide, but there's no evidence to presume that yet. "

Luchist nodded, sorrow was in his eyes. " Accident is acceptable for a child, but homicide... "

" I hope not. ", then the younger sat down right beside the priest, " How is he? "

" Nothing to worry physically, but he was violently shocked. That's what we need to care about. "

The blond nodded. He knew how it was like to be shocked by fear that one did not fully understand. He was even more familiar with how to deal with children who was scarred from such a shock, though he was not good at it. Luchist was the one who had healed the wound of these children he was taking care of, all that were in this orphanage.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when the priest turned to him with a sad look. He smiled faintly as he said, " I'll take the watch tonight. "

Marco wanted to object that, but from the look in the elder's eyes he could see sadness, the same one he saw every time anything unpleasant happen to a child in their care, as if the priest had taken the blame on himself even if it was not his fault. All he could say was, " Take care. " and let the man go.

His room was extremely quiet that night, or else it was because the priest moved extremely quiet himself. He did not want to disturb the boy in his sleep. It was a long day for a child, not older than seven, to face such a tragedy even if he spent most of the time unconscious. He wondered if the boy had already known what befell his family. And if he did, how would it affect him?

Suddenly as he was observing the peaceful face, the eyes burst open. Luchist jumped with surprise. But the boy did not move. He lied there staring at the ceiling, not even acknowledging the priest who was standing next to him. Luchist had to sit down next to the child to gain his attention.

" Where am I? ", the wounded child muttered.

" You are safe. ", the priest replied. " Rest, my boy. You're worn out from the previous day. "

The wounded boy turned to him, but the luster in his eyes was almost emotionless. " Where's mom and dad? "

Luchist swallowed. He did not know how to say it to make the boy understand the situation, not just yet. He brushed the midnight hair out of the boy's face and sighed. " I'll tell you tomorrow when things are clearer than it is now. ", he whispered with a sad smile on his face. " Go to sleep. ", then he stood up and turned to his chair.

" They won't come back, will they? "

Luchist froze.

The boy rolled to his side, saying, " They were in the fire. ", and he said nothing else.

The priest did not reply. He turned off the light and the rest of the night was silent.

Marco left early the next morning. He promised to come back in the afternoon before it was dark. All that long day, Luchist was left alone with the children, but most of the time he spent it with the wounded boy. The child woke up pretty early that morning and immediately asked for food. That gave much relief to the priest since it was a clear sign that the boy will survive physically, and maybe mentally. There was no attempt to ask anything about the accident, only his name.

" Alain ", the boy replied with his unnaturally perfect accent, then he took another sip from his cup, " That's France for Allan. "

" You know English pretty well, don't you? " The priest said rather amusingly.

The boy lowered his cup. His eyes set upon the quivering liquid. " I know only what mom taught me. " He looked up; fear, doubt, sadness, all was there. " She asked me the first day I was home what name that I prefer. She pronounced it to me one by one so I can choose, and I choose Alain. She liked that name. "

Luchist was stunned for a moment. He knew almost immediately what the boy was referring to. " You were an orphan? "

" Were and are. " He said solemnly. " They are dead. "

Chill went down his spine as he gazed upon the boy. The expression on the child's face was almost unreadable, like someone who had passed the world for so long.

The boy put down his cup and attempted a smile. " But you can call me Hao. That's one of the names my friends used to call me when I'm in the orphanage. "

" Alain is fine, my boy. " the priest tried his best to return the smile.

The child looked away and softly muttered, " I'm not Alain, not anymore. "

That day seemed to pass more slowly than usual. The boy was not out of his room yet. The doctor strictly instructed him to remain in bed and rest for a few more days. For the boring time to come, Luchist had provided him with books, papers and companies. If he was not there then someone among the elder boys would be with him. The child spoke very little and ate very little, but he accepted any kind of food that he was given. He still insisted the priest to call him Hao rather than Alain, saying it was more suitable for him.

Luchist could not resist that plea. He understood pretty well why the boy would rather hear the name he was called before his parents were in his life. Memories of happiness were just too short and too painful to think of it now.

Days passed like that; after he finished his duty, he would come to this room and find Hao sitting in his bed, trying to read the book in his hand which he knew little. The papers he was given soon filled up with words he did not understand and phrases he could not interpret. For hours the priest would sit by the bed and try his best to explain all those mumbo-jumbos to the boy who knew nothing of Italian. Then the boy would nodded and thanked him before he went silent, focusing on the book again.

His reactions were strange for a boy at his age. He did not cry for the loss, not even showing a sign of regret only the faint loneliness in his eyes. He said little of his foster family and preferred not to hear anything about his parents or the accident. He told nothing to the police who dropped by for investigation, only fixing his eyes upon them until they were uncomfortable enough to leave. The priest did not ask why he wasn't cooperating, assuming that the boy was too shock to say anything yet.

It took about a week before Hao was permitted to be out of bed. To this point, he was able to speak little of Italian, mostly the phrases that are used daily. He got along pretty well with other children and fit in almost immediately. He was always a big help among the boys and always cooperating, except for one thing...

Hao knocked his door in the middle of the first night he was supposed to sleep in the room with other boys. When he asked why, the child replied, " Can't I change the room, Father Luchist? "

" Something wrong, my boy? "

" I can't sleep there. "

The priest smiled. " It happens when you change place. You'll be fine, Hao. "

" It's..." The boy blinked, obviously trying to think of what to say. The priest pursued him a little, but he seemed reluctant to say it out loud. In the end, he whispered, " Will you think I'm a freak if I tell the truth? "

" Of course not. "

The boy nodded then he said, " There's a girl in that room. "

Luchist eyes widened.

As if reading the confusion in his mind, Hao spoke, " She died there, and she has been there ever since. When I try to sleep, she will be standing there at the end of my bed, staring at me. " He swallowed. " She's scary. "

For some time, there was silence. The priest seemed to be deep in his thought as he gazed upon the boy, a smile gently spread on his face. " Come here, Hao. " The boy stepped in and sat on the edge of his bed. Luchist took the boy in his arms and pulled him onto his lap. " The girl in that room is Luisa. ", he said while stroking the soft black hair. " Like you said, she died six years ago, after she miscarried her child. "

" But she was very young, wasn't she? " Hao looked up at him. " She looks like she was 13 or something. How could she have a baby? "

The priest watched the boy in his arms closely before replying, " You will not understand it now, my boy. You're too young. "

The jet-black eyes narrowed as the boy pulled himself a little away from the warm embrace. " We are always too young, Father. " Hao shook his head as an ironic smirk spread on his face. " We will never be old enough. "

The priest sat stunned at the edge of his bed, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. When the boy said that, something stuck him deep. For a moment he felt that Hao was so much older than he seemed to be. The boy looked almost ageless when he stared back with those obsidian eyes flicked with something that the priest thought no one could ever understand. The silence between them turned into a persuasion. Luchist knew that Hao was demanding the explanation.

" She was raped, sexually abused if you can understand that word. " He said, biting his lower lip subconsciously. " I don't know the details, but as far as I'm concerned, it seemed to be her relative, her close relative, who had done that to her. She was shock and she never spoke again until the day she died. " He let out a sad smile. His eyes were closed as he recalled the memory of that day. " She cried for her baby; that was the only word I ever heard from her. "

When Luchist opened his eyes, the sight that welcomed him was as astounding as the memory that was slowly drifting away. The boy, only seven, the one who should have been so naive to this barbarous world he was to face, was weeping for the girl he barely knew about.

" I'm sorry. ", he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. " They come out so easily when you are a kid. "

The priest simply tightened his embrace, brushing the dark locks from the child's face. " It's good you cry for someone out of sympathy. The world needs kindness and compassion more and more these days. "

The boy nodded. His body shuddered only a little before he was able to steady himself again. His eyes redden, the only sign that he had let out a cry.

The door of his room slowly swung open. Marco, standing in the door way, was clearly relieved when he saw the boy and the priest. " I thought something happened. I guess I was paranoid, wasn't I? "

" Well, something did happen. " Luchist stood up, lifting Hao in his arms. " Hao just met Luisa. "

First, on Marco's face was disbelief, then it slowly changed into a surprise. " Are you serious? I mean, of course you wouldn't make a particular joke in this time of night, but... Are you sure? "

The priest did not answer. Instead he turned to the boy with a wide grin. " Tell him what Luisa looks like. "

The child hesitated. His gaze shifted from Luchist to Marco, then to Luchist again. " She...she wore a very long dress, possibly her nightshirt with ...um...ribbon on her sleeves and laces around her neck...", he paused, "...and blood all over. "

The blond stared at him with fascination, his jaw literally dropped, while the priest grinned even wider. They were silent for a while before Marco could form his thoughts into words. " Is he a shaman? "

" We won't know it until tomorrow. For now he needs a sleep. "

The boy's expression immediately turned into fright. He clenched tightly on Luchist's shoulder, his voice slightly shaking. " Can I change the room? "

" You won't have to, my boy. Luisa won't hurt you...actually she can't hurt you...physically. "

" And why are you telling such a thing to a seven-year-old boy when you are implying that he can be hurt mentally. " The blond burst out from annoyance when he heard the statement. He took Hao in his arms and cradled the child gently, saying, " Luisa won't hurt you. She's really fond of kids, actually. But, well, don't get too close to her yet since, I guess, you were never trained to handle spirits."

" But we can teach you that if you like. " Luchist added.

The boy stared at the priest with a very wide smile on his face. " Really? Can You? "

" Tomorrow, Hao, tomorrow. " Marco sighed. He mentally cursed the elder for exciting a child when he was supposed to go to sleep. " We'll talk about the training first thing in the morning, but for now, sleep is your top-most priority. "

Hao gave them a whine, a childish whine. It somehow relaxed the priest. Hao was still a child no matter how grown he tended to act or how wise his words seemed to be. He was still...seven... and that little whining seemed to assure him so.

But in the end, he had known how foolish he can be.

The pattern of rays on the ceiling shone in from the window slowly dimmed as he stared at them with emotionless eyes. He had lied there, still as stone, watching the sunlight gently drifted away as day turned into night. But he didn't quite notice that. Even as his eyes seemed to concentrate on the light, his mind was somewhere beyond the border of time, returning back to the beginning.

He had been thinking about this; he had been dreaming about this, and now when things seemed to work out just right for him, he was hesitating to take the final move. So he threw himself here and thought, and wished that he would find the answer for all that seemed unclear.

About a month ago, after so many years, he had finally found the first trace of that monster.

His face twitched at the thought, out of hatred and anger. From the day the church was burnt to the ground, Hao had disappeared completely. Not a trace of him was found, as if suddenly he was never there. The case of the foreign couples was closed because someone who claimed to be their relative wanted it to end.

He never wanted someone to believe what he said, but at least he wanted them to listen, to consider the possibility. But they never did. Who would believe that a seven-year-old boy could create such a slaughter, a merciless massacre? Who would believe that when most of the victims were even older than he was. They tried to find other solution, alternative answers, but they never gain one.

And all were swept under the rug.

For years he searched and found nothing. Hao had completely erased any evidence of himself. Any connection that can lead to him was eliminated. They were news and rumors and murders all along the way, but he was always one or two steps ahead. So no one caught him, shaman or not, no one ever.

Now for the first time, he had found something. Even it was the slightest trace, it was worth a try.

Then again, when he came to think of it, something wasn't right. Hao had always successfully erased any kind of indication. How can he be careless enough to left one trace for his enemy to follow? Was it because of the situation, because he really cannot erase them away? He found it hard to believe. If he can escape from one complicated situation, he can do it again.

Then...was this trace left by intention?

But why would Hao bother? Why would he want him to follow? To stop him from what he was doing? Did he know about it? Did he think it can do him harm?

A smile curved on his lips. If 'that' can do him harm, then it was successful even if he wasn't there to see it succeed. Three years ago they had found that they weren't the only victim of this devil. From there, they started to form a league from a group of people who wanted to destroy Hao. It was still in process, but in a few more years X-Laws will be strong enough to raze this devil from the face of the earth. By that time, the Shaman fight would have started, but it will not matter. With or without the Shaman fight, the Holy Maiden will crash that monster into pieces.

But he left all that behind. Marco can handle that alone and X-Laws would be powerful with or without him. He didn't mind being called the traitor. Of course he was the traitor. He, somehow, had turned his back on what he used to believe while others insanely cherished it. They may be puzzled by his sudden abandonment. He never asked them to understand anyway. Something just wasn't right there. He had done something wrong trying to form the league, but he never knew what it was. He just couldn't figure it out, and that truly troubled him.

Now he will set things right in his own way even if it means his life, his hand clenched, he will end this now.

He reluctantly got up. The last light from the sun shone on his face and painted the shadow on his tanned skin. In his right hand laid lifelessly on his lap was a revolver, cold and unpleasant. He lifted it up, observing the silver device carefully. He never used a gun until the massacre. Three years it had been his true ally, the only thing in this world that he would trust. For only three years he had become one of the finest hit man in the X-Laws. But he never actually kill, he just can't bring himself to. Maybe that was one big difference between him and the others.

They were soldiers. They can kill.

He just... can't...

But just this time he will.

" Just this time...", he whispered, " Just this time, Lucifer. "

The silver surface seemed to twinkle as if the soul of the instrument heard his call. The light shone on the letters carved 'ANGEL ENGINE -001', the finest of all, it was time to show his true power.

It almost passed ten when he approached the church, a small one. Judging from the village surrounding the holy ground, it wasn't unusual. The people here were quite poor, but they seemed to be happy enough. He met some children along the way here, and they were really friendly, really cheerful. He asked them about the strangers that arrived here before him and they told him everything they knew. Genuinely, they don't think those strangers can do them harm.

But he knew they would. If Hao was with them, surely they would.

This church was not so far from the houses, but far enough to prevent anyone from witnessing, say, murder, if one was going to happen. His hand gripped tightly around the handle of his gun. Anything could happen now, anything at all. He walked quietly and swiftly along the path up to the steps leading to the door. He could see the candle light from the windows. Someone was in there, someone he had intended to meet.

It had been three years, he came to actually realized that, and how much three years could change. Hao would probably be about ten years old by now. What will he look like? How can he be sure if the person he would see was really Hao? Moreover, how can he be sure if the person he was going to kill WAS really Hao, not an innocent ten-year-old boy who came here by the promise of candies or toys? He can imagine how the monster would laugh when he knew he killed the wrong one.

Can he forgive himself if that happen?

The answer is no.

But did he have a choice?

The answer...is also no.

His hand rested on the wooden door, carefully pushed it open without a sound. The darkness outside had made the candle light almost too bright to endure. He narrowed his eyes cautiously, looking straight forward to the brightened altar, hoping to see the familiar figure standing there. Step by step he strode, gun ready in his hand.

The figure turned to him, and suddenly the whole world collapsed right on his head.

It was a girl.

He stopped, puzzled by this miscalculation. He expected a boy, Hao or not. It just got to be a boy.

But right there she was, blonde and beautiful. Her eyes were fine pieces of emerald shining in the candle light. Judging from her appearance, she was not older than 12. But strangely her countenance shown nothing at all. For a moment he was stunned, practically caught off guard. Was this one of Hao's plan, or he was simply misled by his own thirst for revenge.

In either way, he held out his hand. In the plan or not she was not his target. " Come here, child. You shouldn't be here. "

She lifted the doll in her arms and suddenly the gun in that little limber limb sprung up and pointed straight at him.

Now her expression was the same to his earlier, of hatred and anger.

" No one touches Hao-sama. " She took a step further while he took a step backward. Those emerald orbs watched him closely with every step he took. So she was Hao's comrade. He held the gun a little tighter. Even with all the circumstances, he cannot bring himself to shoot the girl.

The first bullet almost got him if it wasn't for his trained instinct. He was able to dodge it only a few seconds before it could hit his forehead. Her eyes narrowed as she lifted the doll and aimed at him again. It was clear that the girl would kill him despite of the mercy he had shown to her, despite of anything at all.

Sometime he wondered what Hao's true power was. How could he lure someone to follow him? If he didn't hypnotize them, why were they so loyal to someone who was like a devil in disguise? Why would such a girl risk her life for this person even if he was not there and could not be harmed? He really didn't understand.

Any how, understanding wasn't necessary.

He lifted the gun, aiming it at the girl who did not show any sign of fright. She had expected this, it seemed. She knew she may die protecting that monster.

" ... I'm sorry, child... "

He fired.

Yet his bullet never got to his target.

In that second, a shadow got between the two, destroying all the pellets moving in midair. It took sometime before they realized what had happened. The girl was the first to recover.

" Hao-sama!? "

The boy turned to her, a seductive smile on his face. " I thought I told you not to confront him, Mari. "

" But he wants to harm Hao-sama. ", she protested with the slightest fear in her eyes.

Without anger or even irritation he said, " Thank you, Mari, but you must go now. "

" But... "

" I said go. "

She turned to the priest with a dangerous glare as if she was going to tear him into pieces and eat him alive. Then she ran away, obviously following Hao's order but not her own intention.

For Luchist, it was strange. The girl did not fear death but she clearly feared the boy's rage. Then why protecting him? If Hao was so frightful, why care about his well-being? Won't it be better if he died? He mentally shook his head. That clearly wasn't what the girl wanted. Even if she feared him, she clearly needed him.

Love, maybe.

His thoughts were interrupted by Hao's gaze. His eyes had been following the girl, making sure that she wasn't anywhere near them. Now he was looking at him. His expression were unreadable like usual.

Then he smiled. " It has been sometime since we last met, Father. "

He did not answer. His eyes were studying the boy, remembering his features. Hao had grown tall, not in a Caucasian standard perhaps, but a lot taller than he used to be. His hair was long and silky black like it usually was. He hadn't changed much in this passed three years. But he was going to, his body was now starting to show the teenager he was going to be.

His thoughts were interrupted again when those onyx eyes turned to meet his. Hao gave him a smile before he said, " Seems like, you don't want to talk to me. "

The accent was still perfect. The tone was melodic, almost bewitching. The priest swallowed hard as he realized that this was going to be harder than he thought. Now that the boy had spoken, now that he had perceived him as another human being, it will be a trillion time harder to kill him. Hao seemed to know his weakness perfectly; that is why the girl was there first, to stop him from shooting, and to create a chance for Hao to speak to him.

That clever demon.

A smiled curved on the boy's face which at the time expressed melancholy, disappointment and almost sadness. As though he had expected some answer from the priest. He turned his back to Luchist, walking to the altar and stood still. All in the sudden Hao seemed vulnerable. He wasn't protecting himself, not even trying to. It was his chance now, he knew it. It might seemed like a coward to shoot someone from behind but he had to do it.

And the boy sang.

Then suddenly it seemed almost impossible to move, like something had drained his strength from head to toe. He remembered that song, Marco was the one who taught it to the children back then. He was a good teacher. The priest can remember clearly how the blond would stand in front of the rows of boys and girls, patiently listening to every note they sang. He was able to distinguish the difference, that was a very special talent for Luchist. Among the voices and sounds, he can find the wrong one and was able to point out who. That was no different even for Hao. The first time he tested for the choir, he simply got it wrong. He could remember how the boy smiled sheepishly and asked for another try.

Here he was, with the voice of an angel, singing the praise to God. The priest did not know why his arm suddenly felt limp. He wasn't able to aim at the boy no matter how hard he tried. Not only that he had perceived Hao as another living human, for a moment he didn't even see him as a monster he used to think he was. And that moment was followed by a long hesitation and doubt. Why did the boy have such power upon him? Why can't he just shoot?

When the voice died down, Hao turned. " I've heard that a demon cannot praised the Lord correctly, or at least that was what they believed five hundred years ago, didn't they? "

The priest did not move but did not stop the stare either. He kept his fascination deep under the cold heartless mask. He must keep his cool no matter what the situation, even when his enemy had shaken his root.

All that once stood firm was now quivering.

As if seeing the uncertainty, Hao smirked. The boy walked past the elder and sat down on the first row in front of the altar. " Please take a seat, Father. We have so much to talk. "

When Luchist turned, the gun in his hand pointed directly at Hao's forehead, almost touching the tanned skin. But the boy didn't move, not even seemed frighten. The smile was still plastered on his face as if this was expected.

It seemed like eternity staring into those obsidian eyes. He can feel each sweat on his palm, each pulse that went through his vein. His arm felt numb even when he was still pointing the gun at the boy's head. All he needed to do was to pull the trigger and this will end for good.

Slowly, Hao closed his eyes, breaking the onyx spell. " You cannot bring yourself to kill another being, don't you? " Those eyes flung open. A smile spread on the boy's face, almost genuinely. " That is why you came here, away from your friends and comrades. You know you can never be like them. You can never abandon mercy in the name of right. When you saw Marco passed that line, you know nothing will be the same. So you came here alone in hope that you can do something. " He paused, " You fear that if you let me live any longer, X-Laws will become a demon in order to defeat the devil. "

Involuntary, the elder pulled away. His heart beating fast as if it was going to explode. He successfully hid his twisting face under the shadow of his hat.

" What are you, Hao? "

" I am what you see I am, Father. "

His voice came out dry, " You can read minds? "

For a moment, there was silent, " Yes, Father. "

" Three years ago..." He paused, catching his breath. " Three years ago, why didn't you kill me? "

" I have no reason to. "

" AND FOR WHAT REASON DID YOU KILL THOSE CHILDREN!?"

The shout echoed from one wall to another for sometimes before it died down. Without the slightest irritation, the boy simply stared at him with those onyx eyes penetrating every barrier he had set between them.

" What is 'killing', Father? "

The priest froze.

A smile curved perfectly on the boy's face. He patiently said, " We, shamans, know that death is not the end. Every soul will return to the Great Spirit and be reborn again and again. " He paused, " So what is death, Father, and what is life? Do we ever die or we never are alive, who can tell? " He shrugged, standing before Luchist. " But no matter how you identify it, every soul will be tainted with the lives they have lived in. For me, I would rather see those children tainted by a world that is better than this. I would rather see them in less pain and stay as innocent as they could possibly be. "  
He, somehow, understood what the boy was implying to, something that seemed to be a distant dream. But the tone of Hao's voice was so assuring. He seemed so confident that he could achieve this almost impossible goal.

" I can create a new world for them with the power I will gain. " He strode to the elder man, his face was now too relaxing for the things he said. " A world for us, shamans, where no soul will be tainted by human's cruelty. A world that every one understand one another and understand the ways of nature. The only way to do that is to become the Shaman King. "

Their eyes met, staring into each other. The priest swallowed as the boy smiled.

" I need help, Father. I cannot achieve this alone without companions, and among the shamans...you were the only one kind enough to listen. "

" You're lying. " The elder replied.

The boy lifted his brows. " Should I? A truth can come from a lie; you know it well, Father. "

Of course...of course he knew it. It was how the X-Laws started. He chose a girl, strong in spirit and mind, to become the Iron Maiden, the girl who would suffer for the sinners.

A lie was how he started all that.

Hao looked away, giving space and time for the elder to think. " I know you love those children. I saw it in your eyes and I still see it now. But we can do nothing if we just sit here and weep for the damage that is done. " He turned back with a smile, now more genuinely than he ever was. " But we can do something to prevent that destruction from happening again. For those children, for Marco..." He paused a while. Then, gently, he whispered, " ...for Luisa. "

Suddenly, it was clear.

He pointed his gun forward to Hao's direction, but in a split of a second he put on the safe and placed it back to his side.

The boy smiled. Without further conversation, he led the priest to the door and out to the opening where the cold breeze blew them gently, refreshing them from a long tiresome night. The wind seemed to clear his mind. In between the sound of the blowing wind, Luchist thought he heard the soft choir from the ones he loved, a song from his long-gone children.

He cannot undo the past, but he will create a future.

\- FIN -

 **Author's Note** : This fan fiction is more or less a character study of Luchist, and me trying to fill in the years left blank by Hiroyuki-sensei in Hao's childhood(?) - two of the things that are of great mysteries to me in the _Shaman King_ series.

I sort of imagine Hao's life as an orphan going from one family to the other more or less like Johan in _Monster_. But unlike Johan whose motivation of eliminating each family was never clear to me, Hao's purpose of each killing would be to move to another place and find more ally before the Shaman Fight. He has a multinational team, so he needed to be multinationally active and killing throughout the supposed childhood years (although we fans know it's not actually a childhood.)

Luchist is, by far, one of the most complex character to write. It's hard to imagine him being a X-Law once then suddenly turned 180 degree and joined Hao's team, not to mention becoming one of his most trusted companion. Therefore, I believe, that the hate he initially had was a part of Hao's plan to lure the man to him. (I mean, come on, that guy's a thousand years old. He can read minds. I'm sure he can see that coming.) Luchist is exceptionally smart, fully matured, and must have been a really deep thinker. The only thing I can think of that might have change his view of Hao has to be his ideology. I know I didn't make it entirely convincing here. Still, I've tried.


End file.
